


bring on all the pretenders

by justsomejerk



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex and Isobel become besties and all is right in the world, Drunken times in the bunker, Gen, Malex talk, Mentions of Michael but he doesn't appear, Negative mentions of Michael/Maria, Sanders is an alien because I say so, Very vague references to Noah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomejerk/pseuds/justsomejerk
Summary: Sanders accidentally locks Isobel and Alex in the bunker; they proceed to get drunk and become besties.





	bring on all the pretenders

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first RNM fic, so be gentle with me. Unbeta'd.
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's Long Live because I'm basic.

****Sanders misses the days when Michael would casually use his powers around the junkyard, believing an old man like him wouldn't notice. Grumbling to himself about that reckless kid exposing them all eventually has been a favourite pastime of his for years. But he doesn't get the chance anymore, not since the Saviour died. 

Because that was the day Michael stopped using his powers entirely. Not to mention he's now perpetually drunk and Mimi's girl is always coming around, clearly not in the know about him. She's a nice girl, but he is bonded to the Manes kid. Sanders supposes without someone from home to explain just what that means, it may be easy to collapse under the intensity and run towards something easier. It can overwhelm the best of us. He shakes his head to himself. He understands these boys have been through a lot, but enough is enough. The longer they remain apart, the more broken they become. 

And now he's left the bunker door wide open. Goddammit, this kid is gonna be the death of him. Sanders kicks dirt up as he ambles over to the open bunker entrance, and as he moves closer, he hears a voice carrying, though the words are muffled. 

Alex. _ The only good thing Jesse Manes ever did in his life_, Sanders muses to himself. Well, if they're finally talking, he's gonna make sure they do it right. 

Pointing vaguely in the right direction, he slams the bunker door shut with his mind, locking it from the outside and carelessly pulls the Airstream back into place. 

Then he gets into his truck and drives away.

***

Isobel knows Michael wouldn't want her sneaking into the Airstream when he's out in the hope of ambushing him, but really, he has no one to blame but himself. She and Liz are trying so hard to figure out how to bring Max back, but all he wants to do is pour acetone down his own throat, fuck Maria DeLuca, and pretend he's human. 

Isobel had never before realized just how damn irritating denial is to watch. Is this what it was like for Michael all these years, watching Max and Isobel play pretend, while he collected glittering ship fragments and longed for a better family than the one he already had?

She'd always resented that Michael didn't consider her and Max to be enough. It stings to think about that insecure pettiness now, knowing that Michael found his mother and felt her die minutes later. Not that he went into detail about what happened at Caulfield; the morning of Max's death was the last time they'd had a substantial conversation.

She's always had a vague notion of the research Michael was doing based on all the scribblings tossed around the Airstream over the years, but she has never asked questions. Not about their alien lineage, or anything else. She supposes if she had, their relationship may be different now. Michael might be different now. _ When we get Max back, I won't hold back anymore, _ she promises herself. They would really talk. About Alex, Jesse Manes, Noah. What it was like to feel Michael's absence when the Evans' took them away from the group home. How she finally felt at home on earth the morning she felt a new presence in her head - one she confirmed when she tracked down the new kid at school with his messy curls and stained, ill-fitting clothing. 

She could see from her car the bunker door was open, which she took as a good sign. Michael has been avoiding anything alien-related for weeks, so maybe this means he's turned a corner. She strode up to the entrance and tried to make her way down the ladder as gracefully as possible. She called over her shoulder, “Michael, we need to talk,” just before hopping down from the last rung, bracing for this unwanted but necessary confrontation, and spinning around. 

She then found herself face-to-face with Alex Manes. 

***

Alex knows he should have called first. After their long-delayed talk a few days after Max died, Alex knows he can no longer show up at the junkyard unannounced and assume he will be welcome. Michael is moving on and that meant Alex had to give him the space to do so.

But he and Kyle are still putting in hours reviewing the data they stole from Caulfield, and every once in awhile something that seems relevant to Michael and his siblings pops up. Usually he would let Kyle bring it by, but this is about Michael's mother. They found her file, documenting her powers, behavioural patterns and the torture she endured, along with years worth of video footage from her cell. It feels like something he has to deliver himself, thanks to the role the Manes family played in Michael’s tragedy. 

And no one needs to know if he took a bit more time picking out a shirt he knows Michael likes or if he styled his hair to look just like it does when Michael's hands have been fisting through the strands for leverage, when they've both had too much to drink and Alex is panting face-first against the wall of the Airstream, begging Michael for _more, harder, deeper_. 

There was no answer at the Airstream, so Alex figures he will wait down in the bunker. Liz insisted on installing an old computer for when she works there instead of the makeshift lab at Max's place, so Alex settles in to upload the files himself. 

It has been about a half hour when he hears a vehicle drive up, and sure enough, soon someone is making their way down the ladder. Alex stands up and awkwardly shifts his posture to prepare for this confrontation, uncertain of what mood he will find Michael in today. The most common these days is mopey and resigned or angry and drunk. 

To his surprise, the new arrival is Isobel Evans instead, and Alex swallows hard, realizing he is even less prepared for _ this _ particular turn of events. Despite he and Michael orbiting one another for over a decade now, he and Isobel had never been more than casual acquaintances. While she was planning his homecoming parade, Alex could have sworn she avoided dealing with him directly and chose to liaise primarily with his father. He always suspected she knew about his relationship with Michael, but he could never bring himself to ask about Michael during their limited past interactions. 

They face off in a brief moment of awkward shock before Alex gathers his wits enough to offer a weak, “Hi, Isobel.”

She seems to remember herself once he breaks the silence, and stands up straighter before stating brusquely, “Alex Manes. Does my brother know you're down here?” Before he can offer a response, she hurries to add, “I guess I'm allowed to call him my brother in front of you now. He says you know everything, and have for months despite not letting any of _ us _ know.” She raises an eyebrow, and Alex instinctively knows it is a threat. Even without knowing her well, one thing he has always understood about Isobel Evans was her unrelenting and single-minded devotion to Max and Michael. 

“I guess I do. Know everything. He doesn't know I'm here though. I was just dropping off some information Kyle and I found in the Caulfield files.”

“Going through his computer without him here? Would he want you down here?” She asks it sharply. 

Alex lets out a huff of irritation at this interrogation and rolls his eyes. “You know what? Probably not. But what Michael wants lately has been pretty bad for him, so frankly, I don't care. And by the way, Michael trusted me with this bunker and what he keeps inside it long before you. I would wager I'm more welcome down here than you are. Especially considering how little interest _ you've _ shown in Caulfield and the family he lost there.”

Isobel flinches at this statement. She looks torn between doubling down with a scathing rebuttal, and lunging straight for the ladder to avoid this conversation when a creaking noise is heard overhead. She tears her angry eyes away from Alex as he hurries towards her, eyes trained up on the patch of clear blue New Mexican sky as it quickly disappears. 

“What the-” They both cry out angrily at the same time, yelling over one another. Isobel quickly climbs up the ladder again, while yelling in an icy tone, “Excuse me? This is Isobel Evans! Locking me underground will not end well for you, I promise. Michael, if this is you, you know what I will do to your brain when I find you!” She starts banging fiercely on the entrance. Alex is just watching her silently, neck craning, with a sinking feeling in his stomach that her efforts are futile. Someone locked them in purposefully, he is certain. 

After a minute, she stops banging, takes a few deep breaths and lets her arm fall down to her side while the other continues gripping the ladder.

“Uh, Isobel? What are you doing?”

“Concentrating. Shut up.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but continues looking up at her as she goes completely still and focuses her withering stare at the closed entrance above her head. It reminds him of seeing Michael using his telekinesis. 

Except this time, nothing happens. The bunker entrance doesn't even groan in response to whatever she is attempting. She makes a high pitched shriek of frustration and bangs on the door one more time before fixing her hair as primly as one can while clutching onto a ladder, squaring her shoulders and calling down to Alex, “Okay. Your turn.”

He waits until she reaches the bottom and stares at him expectantly before he crushes her hope. “No can do, Evans. Even if I thought it was possible to open that door from the inside, I can't get the leverage on the ladder to push it open anyway.” He gestures vaguely in the direction of his prosthetic. “But haven't your powers progressed? Liz mentioned something about you exploding glass and other stuff. Doesn't that mean you can basically manipulate matter to some degree?”

She takes a moment to fix him with a scowl and brushes past him without a word, going straight to the low shelves in the far corner that serve as the bunker's liquor cabinet. It isn't before she has opened a bottle of tequila and downed a gulp that she answers, “I may have overextended myself practising recently. I suppose I'm a bit tapped out for now.”

He smirks as she tries to gracefully wipe a dribble of tequila from her chin. “So, you have a refractory period.”

“Watch it, Manes. Even if I can't go blowing shit up right now, I can probably still get into your head and get you to spill your darkest secrets.” As she says this, she strolls over to Michael's main work desk, shoves a pile of papers aside and hops up, turning her back to him and leaving her legs swinging as she takes another swig. 

Alex sighs, still moored to his spot by the entrance. “I don't think you can handle that kind of darkness.”

Isobel chuckles, not even looking back at him. “Oh please. Whatever kinky shit Michael has dragged you into is nothing compared to my fucked up sex life. Especially now that I can't tell if I even chose any of it myself.”

Alex was prepared to fight Isobel on her assumptions about Michael's predilections (Alex is the more adventurous of the two, though Michael has always eagerly followed Alex down whatever kinky path he set for them) but he stopped short at the reference to her own marriage. Kyle and Liz had filled him in on the necessary Noah details, but neither could provide a sense of how Isobel was dealing with it. He stares at her back as she continues swallowing down the tequila a little too eagerly, as she glances around curiously at the hand drawn schematics and blueprints taped to the walls. After a moment of indecision, he follows her lead in grabbing a bottle of bourbon for himself and claims the ragged computer chair sitting in front of the low desk where she is perched. 

“So. How is everything?” He cringes even as he talks, knowing how awkward he sounds. 

Isobel rolls her eyes and chuckles briefly. “Oh, we're not gonna talk about me while we're trapped underground together without cell reception. We're gonna talk about the one person we have in common.” She winks at him as the contents of the bottle slosh around.

Alex raises an eyebrow, appraising her appearance. Isobel is usually so composed and pulled together, so it is strange to see her this loose. Dealing with the fallout of losing Noah and Max in one fell swoop must have really done a number on her to crack apart her carefully constructed public persona this way. He rolls his eyes and speaks ruefully before taking a drink, “Sure we are.”

“I love my brother, but he's an idiot. Come on, Manes. Let yourself be angry. He chose someone else. Kyle said he left you waiting while he made out with her!”

Alex is stone-faced as she speaks, eyes averted. When the silence after she finishes becomes uncomfortably long, he mumbles, “We weren't together. He didn't do anything wrong.”

Isobel swung a leg out to gently nudge Alex's knee, encouraging him to look her in the eye. “You can bitch about it to me. I mean, whatever he has with DeLuca doesn't compare to what he feels for you. He's such an asshole sometimes.”

“No, he's not. He wouldn't be with her unless he really cares about her.”

“Isn't DeLuca your best friend?”

Alex couldn't contain his bitter, humourless laugh. “Not anymore.”

“You're better off.”

He rolls his eyes and glares up at her. “No. I'm not. I'm not _ better off _ without my best friend. Maria is one of the best people on this _ planet_. She would never do this unless…” Alex couldn't keep going, the lump in his throat growing larger each second. After a few moments of expectant silence from her direction, Alex forces himself to speak in a rush, “Being loved by Michael is like nothing else. She's lucky.” 

That gives Isobel pause. She goes quiet for a few moments before she asks softly, with an added layer of uncertainty in her voice, “Would you tell me about you two? He never told me any details. Except for his hand, and your dad. And that it was… it was like this thing that burned bright and hot but couldn't last. Were you ever really together though? After high school, I mean.” 

He stares up at Isobel. She has lost the smug pushiness; instead, she looks at him with earnest eyes and he realizes she misses her brother. He may be around, but the brilliant, cocksure, sarcastic core of him disappeared after Caulfield and Max's death. Alex understands. He misses Michael too. 

There is a plaintive plea in her eyes as she fingers the bottle she holds in her lap, and he takes a deep breath. Maybe talking about it with someone close to Michael could help him let go. _ And he only kept us a secret because of me, _ he thinks regretfully. He wouldn't be doing anything wrong opening up at this point, now that it's all over.

But without warning, his mind manufactures a supercut of images, a bad habit he’d picked up in recent weeks - Michael proudly holding Alex's hand at the Crashdown, beaming at his ability to touch him for all the world to see, laughing together with Max, Liz and Isobel over dinner, playing with a rescue beagle in their backyard at the cabin. Having the kind of unrushed sex they could only have when they’ve let go of shame and resentment and all the heaviest memories of their past. _ Stop. _ Alex shakes his head softly, as if this could erase all the what ifs that won’t leave him alone these days. It seems every part of his history with Michael is coloured with regret now. 

His shoulders hunched, looking weary to Isobel’s eyes, he starts. “I would always go see him on leave. No matter how long, even if it was just a few days, I would show up at the ranch with some stupid excuse to see him. And he always let me in. Even though I never stayed. I just- I couldn't. It just wasn't possible.” He can hear the defensive tone in his own voice and he flinches. “Or maybe it was. I don't know. My dad- he was going to hurt him more, just because he hated me for being gay. I thought I was protecting him by only going to him where we could hide and no one would find out. But I think I only ever hurt him-”

“No.” Isobel interrupts. Alex looks up at her for the first time since he started speaking. Her eyes are becoming unfocused as the tequila hits her, but she speaks in a determined tone. “No, it wasn't all hurt and pain. There were these periods, every few years, when it felt like Michael was coming back to life for the first time since that night in high school with Rosa. I've been thinking about those times a lot lately, and I think they probably coincided with your visits. You gave him hope.” She gives him a small sad smile, and nudges him on the knee again with her foot, this time as a comforting gesture. 

“I always took that hope with me when I left though.” On that note, he sucks down a larger gulp and winces slightly. “You know, he never really talked about himself, but he talked about you. And Noah, and how happy he was that you were happy. I was home the month of your wedding. We were doing so well, better than we probably ever were. But then he asked me to go as his date.” Isobel is startled to hear this piece of news. Her eyes go wide and she leans forward, motioning for him to continue. “I said no. It was just instinct. Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was still in effect… I was so mad at him for even asking. He was trying to force me into a decision he knew I was too scared to make. It was the worst fight we ever had.” His eyes were downcast as he says it, staring down at his hands as he fiddles with a silver ring on his left hand. “That was 5 years ago now, and it was the last time we saw each other before my last deployment to Iraq, before my leg. I said so many terrible things to him. About how he was wasting his life and he needed to get out of this town. I thought if I really ended it and made him hate me, then he might actually leave this time. Maybe go to college.”

“It's not your fault he wouldn't leave. All the stuff with Rosa and my blackouts… he stayed because he thought he was protecting me. Not just because he was waiting for you.”

They lapse into a thoughtful silence for a few minutes, Isobel thumbing through some of the pages beside her on the work table, Alex checking behind him to confirm the data he'd brought over loaded properly. She looks up to watch his furious and focused typing, and finds herself asking, “Are you glad you got out? Of Roswell, I mean?”

He pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard, and rolls around. “Yes. I needed out, for a lot of reasons. I don't regret enlisting. I have other regrets, but not that.”

“Being the gay kid in a small town must have sucked.” She says it lightly, offering an opening if he cares to take it.

And he can’t help but laugh in response. A genuine laugh, she notes to herself. 

“That’s one way to put it.” He shakes his head as he says it, smiling ruefully.

The ice is officially broken between them, and they settle into an easy silence. Without cell reception in the bunker, there is no hiding behind their screens. Instead, they swap stories of belonging, war, parental expectations and dating in Roswell. 

By the time they're passing a fresh bottle of tequila back and forth, they have shed the mild tension and reluctance from earlier in the day, and from an outsiders' perspective, they could be two old friends catching up. 

“You know, for someone whose ex just shacked up with his best friend, you've been looking hot as hell lately. The leather jacket works for you.” Alex half-smiles and rubs the back of his neck, fiddles with the sleeve of the jacket. Isobel rolls her eyes and crisply adds, “Just take the compliment, Manes.”

He blushes faintly and says, “Thanks, Isobel.”

She smirks. “So. You and Valenti. You've been working together pretty closely. What's the story there?” Her tone indicates she knows the story perfectly, but wants to hear it from him. 

Alex lets out a bark of a laugh. “Yeah, that's gonna be a hard pass on falling for my straight best friend a second time. I learned that lesson when we were teenagers. But it turns out he's become a good guy, so I guess we're friends now. We understand each other.” He shrugs as he speaks. 

Isobel tilts her head and smiles deviously. “Well, if he's definitely straight, then I know who I'm seducing once I can stand the idea of sex again.”

Alex shakes his head playfully. “I promise I won't reveal your plans. But if you'd like, I can start talking you up with him. I'm not sure how believable I'd be talking about how hot you are, though.”

“Well, he shouldn't need reminders but if you _ insist_.” As she speaks, she tosses her loose hair over one shoulder, exaggerating the gesture with a half smile. They've both reached the point of drunkenness where they remain coherent but the stupidest things are somehow hilarious, so this line leads them both to giggle uncontrollably in unison.

Soon Alex decides they need to eat something, and goes digging until he finds the snacks Liz has been hiding around the bunker for her marathon science sessions. When they've settled back in their positions and are chewing quietly, Isobel speaks up. “I'm really glad Michael had you.” Alex is startled at this pronouncement and stares at her, waiting for her to continue. “I should have been a better sister. I should have known he needed me to reach out. But I'm so glad that he had someone in his life who loved him when no one else was loving him well enough.”

“I think he knows you love him, Isobel.”

She sighs, the tears already forming before she speaks. “Maybe. But it's not enough. We're family, we're supposed to support each other. You know, I do care about what happened at Caulfield. I just don't know _ how _ to talk about it. It's just… so much. There's already all this history of him feeling left behind, and wanting so badly to find this real family he was sure was looking for him. And now they're gone. The only family he has is me, and I'm still letting him down.” The tears are freely coursing down her cheeks now, Isobel barely bothering to wipe them away as she looks down at Alex with a plea in her eyes for something - maybe an affirmation of her own failures as a sister.

“You're not the only family he has, Isobel. He's got me, too. Obviously things are bad between us right now, but he's the only real family I've ever had. I'll always be here if he really needs something.” He pauses here, as if carefully considering his next words. “If you're worried about him being left behind if something happens to you, he won't be alone. No matter how much he pushes me away, I'll be here. I promise. I love him too.”

Her face still tear-streaked but composed once again, she lifts her head, watching Alex's face. Her glance moves beyond him and she muses thoughtfully, “If we're Michael's only family in this universe, does that make you and me family too?”

Alex has an exceptionally good poker face, but even he can't hide the complicated mix of emotions that cross his face at her question. He stumbles over his words as he responds, “I, uh, suppose it can. If we want it to.”

Isobel smiles broadly and sticks out a hand to Alex as if eager for a handshake. When he takes it, a puzzled expression on his face, she tugs him up out of his chair and motions for him to take a seat beside her. She hands him the tequila, “Well, you're almost as stubborn, obnoxious and dumb as my other brothers, so it actually makes perfect sense that I would get stuck with you too. At least _ you _ have the redeeming quality of a decent sense of style, though.”

He smiles at her with a growing fondness and responds, “I'm glad to be of service.”


End file.
